Not making a decision is my worse trait. I am sick over it myself. For me making a decision is a problem. To me a decision is like an insurmountable mountain.
You can’t imagine how problematic it is? I have to write a letter. It’s of utmost importance, and I should write it immediately. What do I do? I keep thinking I will do so in a minute……
The minute stretch to hours — morning goes —- evening starts —- the day ends —- postponed to another day, and it goes on…….
Going out? I will look into my wardrobe. Stare in vain inside to find something to wear. At least it is still easier to decide than going to a party. The indecision reaches hellish proportions. What to wear, which purse, which footwear and which jewelry to match? I feel tired even before I have to go. A headache of gigantic magnitude heads my way.
My (late) husband R had no such problem. A day or so earlier he would ask me to press his chosen clothes. He would take a shower, change and be ready in ten minutes. I did envy him his habit, but alas! I am made a different way.
I am truly horrified at myself. Why I am so indecisive? From where I got this gene? From father or mother? Since both of them passed away a long time ago, it’s hard to ascertain. I will never know where to lay the blame, and who burdened me with this affliction?
My earlier response to the same prompt is “Can I be a Saint?” June 2, 2014
A True Saint
In 300 years, if you were to be named the patron saint of X, what would you like X to be? Places, activities, objects — all are fair game.